


Bathtime

by theclockiscomplete



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bubble Bath, F/M, Fluff, Sharing Clothes, fluffity fluff from flufftown, fluffy fluff, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 05:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5193677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclockiscomplete/pseuds/theclockiscomplete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much what it says on the tin. Bubble beards, splashfights, hoodie sharing/stealing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bathtime

**Author's Note:**

> I can't seem to lay off the fluff. Everything is fine. No need to send help. It's not taking over. I can stop whenever I want.

“Okay, I think it just hit me what we’re doing. How did we end up here again?”

The Doctor leaned his head against the wall and thought a moment. “You came into the TARDIS.”

“Yes.”

“Dropped your things on the copilot’s chair.”

“I like using yours better anyway.”

A chuckle. “I know. You said something about your day. Probably.”

Clara twisted to look at him. “Oh God, sorry,” she said at the look on his face. And then, more severely, “What do you mean ‘probably’—weren’t you listening?”

He frowned. “I was trying, I think.” She huffed at him.

“I don’t feel bad for nicking that jumper anymore,” she said, and turned back around. Carefully. “Keep going, because we’re not here yet.”

“Actually—”

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

“That’d be a first.” Clara shifted warningly. “Okay, okay,” he rushed. “Continuing. You…hugged me. Yes.”

“Clothed?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, still with you.”

“And then you suggested a bath to wind down. Together.”

For a moment, there was only the sound of the overhead birds and the rippling of the spring-fed pool. They were in a beautiful sanctuary of black marble and wild plant life, nestled somewhere onboard the TARDIS. “See that’s where I get lost,” Clara said finally. Somewhere between that suggestion and now, we lost our clothes.” The water sloshed around her as she turned in his lap to look up at him. “And neither of us was unconscious? No offer of a drink? No dream patch?”

“Nope.” He popped his lips on the end of the word and scooped a handful of the gently steaming water over her back. “Just a bath, courtesy of the TARDIS. Nudity optional but encouraged. Bubbles were my idea,” he added.

“Clashes a bit with the current aesthetic, but acceptable,” she amended, “though it’s a little weird that your semi-sentient ship materialized us in here sans clothing as soon as a bath was mentioned.”

“She was trying to be helpful.”

“So she had the presence of mind to drop us in a kind of Asian rainforest and also use a bubble bath you bought a week ago?”

“This isn’t a rainforest, and her desires and mine are linked.” His voice shifted into the fact-giving tone, the listen-to-me-say-something-intelligent timbre. “She chose this, an eco-” Clara splashed him. One-handed, scooped palm, perfect face shot. He sputtered for a moment before glaring at her. She smiled. “You could have gotten soap in my eye,” he sputtered.

“I am sure it’s futuristic and probably made of unicorn tears,” she said unapologetically.

He blinked. “No, it came from the Tesco on your street. I put it in your cart last week because it smelled like Uprin pheromones.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She lifted a handful of bubbles and stuck them to his face like a beard. “Not a bad look,” she mused.

The bubbles shifted. “No.”

“Do you shave?” she asked, undeterred. “I’ve never seen you shave, but I’m not with you every moment, so.” She reached up and cupped his face under the bubble beard, feeling for any hit of stubble.

This time, when he said “no,” his voice was a bit thicker. Clara realized that she was half out of the water, her face inches from his, her other one braced on his chest. She grinned. “Relaxed yet?”

“Oh, perfectly,” he said, and his fingers were white where they rested on the edge of the pool.

Clara sighed and placed a fond kiss on the end of the Doctor’s nose before nestling beside him with the water and the bubbles up to her shoulders. She rested her head on his upper arm and looked up at him. “You know you can kiss me if you want, Doctor.”

He glanced down at her, a picture of calm and collected from the nose up. “Why would I want to do that?”

Clara giggled; she couldn’t help it. She reached up and wiped the bubble beard off of his face and when her thumb swiped over the corner of his mouth to get the last of the suds, he reached up and gently caught her hand. His tongue swiped over the pad of her thumb and he closed his eyes. “Just like Uprin pheromones,” he said. “What?” he added at Clara’s nonplussed expression.

“Doctor, if you just licked my thumb and got turned on by alien pheromones from Tesco, I am finding a new hobby.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Knitting your own jumpers, maybe?” There was a moment of silence and warring facial expressions, and then they both started laughing. Clara flicked a small stream of water at his face and dove away from him before he could swipe at her. The water was warm with eddies of warmer, and Clara thought they felt on her skin the way stripes looked as she struck out for the waterfall at the mouth of the spring. She dared to open her eyes and smiled to herself when they didn’t immediately begin to burn. Soap in his eyes, indeed.

Predictably, the Doctor caught up to her with a few long strokes through the water and when she had to come up for air, it was to nearly crash into his waiting chest. He threw his arms around her instinctively and she clung to him, and when she looked up at him they were both grinning. He tried to shout something over the roar of the waterfall, something like “you have a hat!”

Confused, Clara shook her head and pointed to her ear. When he leaned in, she was expecting him to repeat himself, but instead was stunned when his lips crashed down on hers. And yes, if that was what he’d tasted when he licked her thumb, then okay—this made more sense. He wrapped a hand around her knee and hitched her up closer to him and just there, she felt the evidence of his arousal and smiled against him.

 ************************************************

“You have your own closet here, you know. I've seen it. It's the size of a house.” The Doctor sat on the edge of his underused bed and watched, resigned, as Clara dug through his drawers.

“Yes, but none of the things in it smell like you.” She held up a large black jumper and poked her fingers through the holes before grinning and slipping it over her body.

“That’s because they belong to me and I wear them.” The Doctor looked pained when she turned around. “That’s my favorite one!”

Clara leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Mine too. Here,” she added, tossing him the previous hoodie she’d nicked weeks ago. “Wear this one. It doesn’t smell like you anymore.” He grumbled and slipped it over his head, but he pulled the sleeve up to give it a tentative sniff before giving a shrug and scratching a hand through his hair. He sneezed suddenly, and Clara blinked twice before she said “I’ve never heard you do that. Don’t tell me there’s some other kind of pheromone in my perfume and you’re allergic to it.”

He sniffed and a corner of his mouth twisted up. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. Just a sneeze.” Clara sat sideways in his lap and kissed his cheek before settling against his chest, cocooned in his jumper. He buried his face in her hair and breathed deeply. “Didn’t you have marking you needed to do?” he murmured.

“We’re in a time machine.” Her voice was muffled, slightly sleepy. “It can wait.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” He was quiet for a moment. “Do we have any hot cocoa?” When Clara elbowed him, he only laughed and kissed the top of her hair. There would be markings to do and cocoa to make, but for now there was him and there was her, drifting through time, insulated from harm and worry. And for now, that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> If this keeps up, I may make a collection for it.


End file.
